


easily bought

by tagteamme



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Earthbender!Shiro, Firebender!Keith, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mentions of Other Voltron Paladins, Pining, Romance, keith makes poor financial decisions, the garrison is now the academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13772793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tagteamme/pseuds/tagteamme
Summary: Keith bids on Shiro at a charity auction to prevent his friend from getting stuck spending the day as someone's personal butler.  It's only after he wins that Keith realizes he's bought a day with the man he's been infatuated withforever, with money he can't really afford to spend.





	easily bought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [olddarkmachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olddarkmachine/gifts).



> sheithlentines gift for [theolddarkmachine](https://theolddarkmachine.tumblr.com)!! hope you enjoy, happy super belated valentines i love you and your writing tons <3

Keith first bids as a joke.

Shiro gives him an exasperated expression from where he stands on the stage as Keith calls out a number. Coran waves and exclaims happily. The rest of the instructors and assistant instructors at the Academy stand at attention with their hands folded behind them; even though Shiro’s clearly undergoing a huge amount of embarrassment, they still hold a large amount of respect for him. It’s probably because they’re all going to have to go up for bidding too.

To no one’s surprise,it doesn’t take long for Keith to get outbidded. Shiro’s kind, attractive, and a highly competent earthbender with a cool looking metal arm. Shiro looks mildly uncomfortable at the next bid, and Keith feels a pang of pity for his old mentor. He reminds himself that Shiro signed up for this, and he calls out a higher bid. Keith also tells himself that he’s just trying to boost his best friend’s ego when he bids, and that none of this has anything to do with the fact that he’s nursing a mountain-sized crush on Shiro.

“That’s a pretty impressive amount of coins!” Coran calls out when someone outbids Keith. Keith shrugs in Shiro’s direction, because Keith only has so much money. “But we can get a little _more_ for the Academy’s favourite star?”

Someone calls out a big number. A really, really big number. Keith turns to look at who it is, and a familiar head of white hair stands above most of the crowd. Lotor winks at Keith, and there’s really no reason for Keith to start seeing red. This is just a charity event the academy is holding to help the victims of a recent mudslide from a nearby village. They’re auctioning off a day to civilians with some of their most popular instructors. Shiro tried to rope Keith in to doing it as well, but Keith would rather eat his own hand.

Keith has a great amount of self control, especially when it comes to money. He can feel it steadily crumbling away as Coran starts counting down, and Lotor gives him an extremely smug smile. Sometimes, Keith thinks Lotor exists just to play with him like food. Something itches in him to bid higher than Lotor, because if Lotor wins a day with Shiro, he’s probably just going to use him like a butler like he had done with Lance for the entirety of their first year at the Academy.

“Going once,” Coran calls out, and Keith really shouldn't try to get into it with Lotor. It's just a day with Shiro. Keith gets many days with Shiro, all for free.

“Going twice, “ And Keith needs to maintain his ability to be smart with his money. In the moment, he’s thinking more with his heart than his brain, but he has faith that his brain will always win. It’s what gotten him accepted into the Guard for the city immediately after graduating the Academy.

“Going three times,” And it's not like Lotor’s going to do anything other than annoy Shiro all day anyways. Keith’s sure Shiro can withstand a full day of it.

Though, Shiro’s historically _has_ had Keith’s back throughout his entire time at the Academy. Keith’s not a troublemaker, but trouble used to find him often, and Shiro had always been there to pluck him out of it. Shiro was, is, and always will be a good friend. Something tells Keith he should really do the same for him.

Keith calls out a ridiculous number before he can stop himself. The crowd goes silent, and Shiro's eyes widen.

“Amazing!” Coran booms, and Keith suddenly needs to backpedal hard. But unless his eyes are deceiving him, a look of faint relief has just washed over Shiro. It’s preventing Keith from making the smart decision and rescinding his bid.

Keith panics internally, hoping someone will outbid him. The crowd is chatting animatedly, entertained by the high number, but no one calls out another bid. He looks at Lotor again as Coran counts down and Lotor raises his eyebrows. He opens his mouth and inhales, and Keith feels relief for the briefest moment.

“Sold!” Coran announces happily, waving his hand with flourish in Keith's direction. Lotor clamps his mouth shut with a wink, and Keith can feel the colour start to drain from his face.

 

* * *

 

Keith’s got pride and it’s for charity, so he doesn’t rescind his bid. He’s got to go back to his small apartment above a tea shop and dig out the bag of coins he has hidden in the floorboards. Coran can then count it out in front of him and confirm that Keith’s the winner, the stupid, reckless winner that ended up bidding the most out of anyone that day. The day is sweltering hot and Keith’s got the option of hitching a ride home on Lance’s cart, but he needs to do penance for being a complete and utter idiot.

He’s long given up on telling himself his crush on Shiro will eventually stop growing and fade away. It’s partly because he gets to spend a good amount of time with Shiro, first when Shiro was an upper year student at the Academy mentoring Keith, and now, when Shiro’s now a close friend of his who likes to wax lyrical about how proud he is that Keith’s joined the City Guard. It’s mostly because Keith knows that he’s not going to meet someone who’s as genuine as Shiro is. Nor as handsome, but Keith _really_ cannot dwell on that.

When he makes it home, he sits on his bed and stares at the small burlap sack in his hands. He hasn’t bid away _all_ his money, just a sizeable enough amount that he’s going to feel it for a little while. He only joined the Guard recently, so his salary isn’t envious, and Keith’s going to have to be frugal. All this so that he wouldn’t lose a day with Shiro to _Lotor_ of all people. As if Shiro is Keith’s to begin with.

Maybe Lance and Hunk are right, and Keith’s too quick to take action. Normally he tells them he just thinks faster than the rest of them, and he does, but that excuse falls flat in this situation. Keith’s not going to retract the bid, but he needs to think of a way to recover the money.

And also somehow power through a day with Shiro that they both know he’s paid for.

 

* * *

 

Keith thinks of a solution. Sort of. He thinks of a way to get two birds with one stone, at the very least.

He picks Shiro up from the instructor’s quarters early in the morning. He had a list of dates to choose from for when Shiro was free, so he’s picked the one near the end of the week where he has the day off and won’t have to shuffle around his shifts. He feels some trepidation as he knocks on the door, so he tries to lean against the frame and act nonchalant. He’s had to wipe sweaty palms against his pants ten times already, even though the heat of the day has yet to set in.

Technically, this day should be like any other. Nothing he has planned is out of the ordinary for the two of them, but Keith’s heart still skips a little when Shiro opens the door. He’s dressed in his casual moss green robes, and Keith often forgets that he hates that colour when he sees Shiro in it.

“Hey,” Keith says as casually as possible. Thankfully, his voice doesn’t crack. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Shiro replies. “Have you decided what you want to do?”

Keith nods, hoping his nervousness doesn’t show on his face.

 

* * *

 

 

Contrary to what people think about him, Keith likes children. He makes faces at babies and toddlers when their parents aren’t looking, and buys sweets for kids when he’s on duty and sees them milling around a vendor’s cart, eyes big but pockets empty. He pretends to put bullies under arrest until they apologize, and he’s gentle when he finds a lost child. He’s maybe not the most personable guy at all times, and he doesn’t really know what to do with them when they cry, but Keith likes children.

Except for maybe this one.

“This is _stupid_ ,” The kid says, and Keith pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you even qualified to teach me?”

“I am,” Keith says through gritted teeth. _Your parents think so, at the least_. “It’s not stupid. Just do what I say.”

“But _why_?” She whines, and her bamboo stick hangs limply beside her. Keith can hear a snicker behind him.  “Didn’t you _just_ join the guard?”

“Didn’t you _just_ join the Junior Academy?” Keith snaps back, and Shiro snorts. He’s glad that Shiro’s finding some enjoyment in the situation, despite it being his fault.

Well. Keith’s fault.

Keith’s the one who spent a good amount of money bidding on Shiro for the auction. Keith’s the one who’s decided the best way to earn that money back would be through a series of small high-paying but mildly unpleasant jobs on his day off. Keith’s the one who decided to bring Shiro along just to remind himself that he was doing it for a charitable cause, and that Shiro’s worth it anyways. Keith’s the one who has decided to not reveal any of this to Shiro.

The first job he’s managed to land for the day is a tutoring session of a rich merchant’s daughter. She’s wicked smart, but slightly lazy and questions everything at every turn. Keith vaguely remembers being like that, but he also vaguely remembers actually _waiting_ for the person to finish giving an answer before telling them that they didn’t actually answer him.

“It’s okay,” Shiro quips from where he’s reclining on a tatami mat in the corner of the room. Keith and his liege are standing in the centre, and he’s trying to get her back on track. “He was a difficult student too.”

“I was _not_ ,” Keith says hotly, because that definitely does not help his cause. He reaches forward to poke the girl in the shoulder with his own stick and she smacks it out of the way before it makes contact. Her reflexes are quick, but her technique is sloppy and aggressive. Her parents want her to refine herself just a _little_ more before anyone puts any form of a sword in her hand.

“You taught him?” The girl asks, frowning at Keith. “Really? You look to young to be a teacher for _that_ long.”

No one’s called Shiro young in a long time; the white tuft of hair, the way he still holds himself like a soldier, and his metal arm has meant that everyone always assumes Shiro’s a beacon of either maturity, austerity, pity, or both. Even though Keith’s facing away from Shiro, he can sense the smile he’s trying to hide. Keith’s working on hiding his own, not wanting to break his weak authoritative image.

“We went to school at the same time,” Shiro replies. “But I was a couple of years ahead of him. I used to mentor him in this.”

“What, fighting?” The girl asks, and Keith rolls his eyes.

“It’s an art with a _name_ ,” He says sternly. “Until you use it, I’m not going to use yours.”

“Don’t,” She replies primly with a sweet smile and Shiro’s laughing. _Again_.

“He was good,” Shiro says, voice entertained. “He had a lot of skill. Just needed some refinement.”

When he had started in the Academy, Keith thought his teacher had been angry at Keith for being vicious with his training in class. Keith wasn’t rude— he was just determined to defeat his opponent at any cost. His classmates got angry at him regularly for constantly beating them, but it turned out that his teacher was just deeply amused. There was an older earthbender student, the teacher had told Keith, that had been looking to train a few people in swordsmanship to reinforce his own knowledge. He suggested Keith seek the student out as a mentor, and Keith wasn’t too eager on it until he met Shiro.

Shiro was firm but kind, and funnier than a teacher’s pet had any right to be. In their third private session, Shiro had asked him if he wanted to sneak into one of the smaller armories and see how it’d be to swing around a real sword instead of brandishing one of the old dull ones used in the instructional classes. It was the first time Keith got in contact with a blade that could sing sweetly through the air, and the first time Keith felt butterflies in Shiro’s presence.

A little poking around told Keith that he was the only one Shiro did this with, only one who Shiro would hang out with outside of the Academy, the only one who Shiro called by the first name. From thereon in, it had only been downhill, and Keith had been nursing a large crush that he completely refuses to voice out loud.

“Didn’t have a lot of manners though,” Shiro continues thoughtfully. “Had to train that into him too.”

“Sound familiar?” Keith manages to fully prod the girl this time, because he’s getting paid to teach her and not to stand and get disrespected. Then he realizes that he sounds like Iverson, and withers a little. “If you want to talk, work and talk at the same time.”

The girl rolls her eyes, and reaches forward with her stick to poke Keith between his eyes. He lets it happen purely so he can give her an appropriately flat look for her petulant behaviour. It makes her giggle, and Keith reminds himself that her parents are rich and paid a good amount of money for him to show her some tricks.

“How’d you get them to let him graduate?” She asks Shiro, and Keith wonders if she’s ever, _ever_ met Lance in her life. She talks so much like him, that Keith’s knee-jerk reflex to lob back an insult is on the verge of being activated. He has to remember that he’s a _teacher_ here, even if he’s just tutoring her for a couple of hours while she makes fun of him and Shiro looks on.

“I worked really closely with him,” Shiro says, and the amount of pride in his voice makes Keith tickle a little. It always warms him when Shiro talks about him like this. “Taught him everything I knew.”

“Well,” The girl says, and she’s got a shit-eating grin that would make Lance proud. She widens her stance and brings her stick down in front of her, centering it to Keith perfectly.  “Explains why he _sucks_ so much.”

It’s Shiro’s turn to splutter while Keith laughs. Maybe he likes this kid after all. But she beats him around the head with her bamboo stick with no consideration of technique, skill, or any of the lectures that Keith has so carefully given her.

So maybe not.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith thinks he can go at least two thirds of the day without Shiro figuring out what’s up. If he’s crafty enough, he might even be able to go the _entire_ day slogging through odd jobs and pretending this is just how he likes to spend his days off, all while Shiro watches. Keith realizes that he’s forgotten to account for the fact that sadly, Hunk and Lance are amongst his acquaintances. On good days, he even calls them friends. Today’s a day where he wishes he didn’t know them at all.

Keith, to his credit, is not covered in dirt. Well technically, to Shiro’s credit, because he won’t take no for an answer when he tells Keith that he’ll help him with the task. Said task being delicately digging up rows and rows of flowers from a popular local florist’s giant outdoor garden. The sun’s beating down on them, but the owner had been kind enough to lend them straw hats for the task.

Keith tried to tell Shiro to take a back seat, to just hang around and keep Keith company as he pulls up tall flowers and trims them before putting them into a basket, taking great care not to crush the petals. Shiro reminds Keith that he’s an earthbender and also his friend, and that Keith doesn’t necessarily have to get on his hands and knees and dig. The work’s not the most entertaining, but he and Shiro have an easy rapport that makes the most mundane task interesting. They’re working on the third row out of eighteen for this particular flower, Keith bending down to pluck flowers and Shiro walking behind him, parting the dirt for him as he tells Keith about the hilarious way he caught two students cheating, when a familiar voice calls out to them.

“Is that who I think it is?” Lance voice rings through the garden, and Keith freezes. Shiro shoots him a bemused expression, and Keith replies with a pointed “No.”

“Hey, it’s Shiro! Hey Keith!” Hunk calls out, and Keith visibly slumps.They’re the last two people he wants to see at the moment. It’s not fair on them because Lance had found this job for Keith and he doesn’t actually have any ill feelings towards them, but he knows that it will take less than thirty seconds of them talking to Shiro before Shiro finds out what exactly Keith’s doing today and why.

By the looks of it, they’ve come to the property to do a delivery, and by the way they start ambling over to Keith and Shiro, they have too much time to spare.

“How’s your day?” Shiro asks them, and both of them flash matching thumbs-up.

“How’s your work coming along?” Lance asks as they approach Keith and Shiro. “Did you have fun tutoring?”

“It’s going good,” Keith doesn’t want to sound so brisk, but he wants to end the conversation despite it barely having started. He doesn’t know if Shiro’s going to think he’s lame or reckless with his money when he finds out Keith spent well out of his means, and he doesn’t want to find out.

“Did you earn back your money yet?” Hunk asks, and Keith mentally chides himself for thinking these two would ever not be straight to the point.

“No I don’t think so,” Lance chips in before Keith can say. “You still have half the amount left to make back, right?”

Keith can feel his ears redden, especially when Shiro shoots him a questioning look.

“I thought we were volunteering,” Shiro says, and Hunk and Lance look at each other before looking back at Keith. Keith glares at them, and they have the grace to look at least a little apologetic. “Keith?”

Keith grimaces and shrugs, keeping his hands up and avoiding eye contact with Shiro.

“To be fair,” Lance says slowly after a few painful seconds of silence have followed. “If you ever get dragged out for this kind of volunteer work, you should be questioning how gullible you are.”

“What amount are you making back?” Shiro asks, genuine concern in his voice. “Did you lose some money?”

Keith finally looks up at Shiro, Hunk and Lance joining him in staring. Keith shifts uncomfortably on his feet, balancing the basket in one arm as he scratches the back of his head with the other.

“Well,” He starts, and can pinpoint the exact moment that Shiro’s patently effective disappointed expression starts to make itself known. “Y’know.”

“It was for charity,” Hunk quips helpfully, but it does nothing to dilate Shiro’s expression. “Keith’s just bad with his money, you know.”

Keith almost blurts out that he’s not, but then he knows all three of them are going to open a line of questioning with him that he won’t be able to close. Not without embarrassing himself or revealing that his one big moment of weakness was due to the fact that he’s deeply in love with Shiro.

“Keith,” Shiro begins, and at least Hunk and Lance have the common sense to press their fingers to their heads in a small salute before making excuses about how they _really_ cannot fall behind on deliveries again. They stumble over each other as they try to exit, and Keith goes back to avoiding Shiro’s gaze like a guilty dog.

“It’s for charity,” Keith repeats what Hunk had said, but by the thin press of Shiro’s lips, he can tell he’s not impressed. “What?”

“Did you spend _all_ your money?” Shiro asks firmly, in a way Keith knows he won’t be able to hide.

“No,” Keith replies, trying not to sound too defensive. “Just...a  good enough amount. You were on stage. You know how much.”

Shiro says nothing, so Keith keeps going on, praying the ground will open up and swallow him so he can stop.

“Lotor was about to win,” He tries to reason, tries to weave together an excuse as Shiro gives him a “ _so what?_ ” expression. “I just wanted to help a friend. And the village, of course.”

“Help a friend,” Shiro echoes, and Keith nods along. “Keith.”

“It’s already done,” Keith says with as much conviction as he can, before the conversation veers into anything uncomfortable. “No point in lecturing me now.”

Shiro looks like he wants to lecture Keith anyways, so Keith bends down by the flowers and starts carefully digging the dirt out around it with his unused spade. He makes it through two flowers before the dirt starts shifting itself, allowing Keith to pull out the flowers easily. He looks up at Shiro, squinting as the sun shines from behind him, and Shiro’s expression looks a little less stern.

“This isn’t the stupidest thing either of us have done,” He tells Keith, and Keith snorts but smiles to himself as they get back to work.

 

* * *

 

They pick up a small job on their way to lunch. Keith gets accosted by an elderly man who has a couple of coins for Keith if he can retrieve the man’s cat. He’s tired from the day already, and wants to take whatever rest he can, but he’s also got a soft spot for helping out animals in need.

It sounds like a simple enough task, until they get to the tree where the cat’s shimmied up. The branches don’t start till a few heads above Keith, and the narrow tree doesn’t look like it’s the easiest to climb. The cat’s stuck on the third branch up, and Keith tries to shimmy up the tree to no avail. He does this a couple of times, thinking about the cat’s health every time he feels embarrassed about how he’s unable to climb a simple tree. Shiro offers to climb the tree instead, and Keith pretends he didn’t hear it.

“Don’t look at me,” He tells Shiro sternly instead, and Shiro bites down on his knuckles as Keith hugs the tree and tries to find purchase again. “Shut up.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Shiro supplies helpfully. The elderly man tries to give Keith a suggestion on how to climb the tree best, but Keith just cannot get the hang of it.

The fifth time Keith attempts to climb the tree and fails, two large hands grab him by the waist and pluck him off the bark.

“I got it,” Keith insists, but doesn’t protest when he feels Shiro slide down the back of his body and encircle Keith’s calves. He tries to look like he’s put out when Shiro hoists him up, getting him high enough that Keith can get wrap his hands on the lowest branch and haul himself up. Shiro doesn’t let him go till Keith’s pulled himself up all the way onto the branch.

“You kinda look like the cat,” Shiro calls, and Keith scans the branches of the tree.

He finds her, orange and lean and very well taken care of. Her face is a creamy white and almost disturbingly human, and scrunched up in disgust. Keith feels mildly offended, and tries to glare at Shiro but the effect dissipates over the distance.

“I hate you,” He calls out instead, and Shiro does not look appropriately remorseful.

Keith manages to shimmy over to the branch, accumulating a decent amount of scratches and leaves in his face. Despite the fact that she looks murderous, when Keith manages to finally reach the cat and scoop her into his arms, she purrs softly and nestles into his chest. It’s a little surprising, because Keith was expecting to be on the receiving end of as many claws as the cat could muster. He shifts his robes slightly so he can tuck the cat into his shirt, and she looks up at him with her large yet unnervingly human eyes. It’s a little unnerving, but Keith’s not going to complain. Her expression still looks grouchy, but that might just be how her face is, and Keith feels like he can relate to that on some level.

Carefully, he climbs down to the closest branch, holding onto the cat with one hand. He debates jumping down, but thinks it might shock the cat. He leans forward,and wraps his arm around the branch, one arm still securing the cat. Carefully, he swings so that he’s hanging upside down like a sloth. He lets go of the cat and grabs the branch with his other arm so that he doesn’t dislocate anything, before letting of of his legs.

He dangles down from the branch, letting go with one arm again so that he can hold on to the cat as he prepares to jump down. Soft breath gusts over his chest and it tickles, but Keith holds on tight. He doesn’t have a chance to let go and drop down and worry about his landing, because Shiro wraps his arms around Keith’s legs again.

“I got you.” he calls out, and Keith lets go of the branch. His weight falls into Shiro’s arms, and Shiro lets him slide down till his feet gently hit the ground. He comes face to face with Shiro, who reaches up to brush a leaf out of Keith’s hair.

“Good?” Shiro asks,and Keith tries his best not to focus on how Shiro’s not let go of him yet. The cat tucked in his shirt helpfully meows, and Shiro’s expression immediately turns liquid when he sees it.

“Oh you’re _gorgeous_ ,” he coos to the cat, and Keith knows it’s not directed towards him but he feels a little flustered anyways.

 

* * *

 

Shiro tries to buy Keith lunch, but Keith insists on paying it with the money they had gotten from the old man. It’s mostly because Keith’s starving and about to buy five barbecue skewers to go with some steamed rice, and he’d feel bad for making Shiro pay for so much. He gets Shiro some grilled fish, and they sit at one of the small tables right outside of the restaurant. The cat incident took up a good half of Keith’s self-allotted time for food, so he works on shovelling as much into his mouth in one go as possible. Against Keith’s insistence, Shiro gets them sweet curds for dessert, and elbows Keith out of the way when he tries to pay for them.

They talk idly in between Keith stuffing his face and Shiro delicately cutting apart his fish as he watches. Keith regales Shiro with all the funny things he’s seen on guard duty this week. His favourite are always the people who see him at a guard post, standing stoically as he surveys the crowd. They often think that he’s not allowed to move or react to anything around him and once a week, someone likes to hurl creative insults at Keith right next to his ear and make lewd motions. Once a week, Keith gets the joy of breaking form and verbally putting the fear of god into the poor fool.

He’s always tempted to put a few people under arrest for public disruption, but watching them scurry away is generally enough. Shiro takes great amusement out of this, and tells Keith he’s going to come harass him next time he’s posted somewhere near the Academy. Keith laughs along, like he’s not going to just simply run away if Shiro decides to bug him in a similar way.

The work right after lunch is the most embarrassing task Keith’s had to pick up. It’s also the second highest paying on the list today. And the one that requires the least amount of effort. He reasons with himself that he’s seen and been seen by Shiro in much more embarrassing situations, even if he can’t recollect any at the moment.

There’s nobody else he knows that won’t brutally tease him when he dons a giant, elaborate costume meant to make him look like an appealing head of cabbage. Shiro even tells him that he looks handsome with a steady enough voice that Keith tricks himself into believing that it’s sincere and that Keith does actually look good dressed like a vegetable. He’s not sure why a cabbage would have gold tipped leaves or silver thread weaved through an ugly, pointed hat, but apparently the owner of the stall likes to put forward a good image.

The man who owns the stall owns many across the city; his main career revolves around some mechanical industry, but he likes to own cabbage stalls for nostalgic purposes. That’s all Keith remembers, because between telling him that and expounding on how amazing it is to have a cabbage stall to humble oneself, the man had told him how much he’d pay Keith to stand in costume and advertise his stall for an hour and a half while he took lunch, and that was all that Keith had needed to know.

Shiro’s supposed to mind the stall while wearing the signature bright green apron, and Keith thinks that Shiro’s face will do more to draw in a crowd than Keith yelling out “ _Special deal, two for one!_ ” to slightly terrified passerbys. If Shiro stops laughing at Keith at random intervals.

“I’m doing this for you,” Keith says indignantly, and Shiro tries and fails to give him a genuinely good natured smile. Shiro’s taken the job in good stride, but it’s easier when he doesn’t have to look like an idiot. Shiro had said it was because watching Keith jump around and monotonously declare the day’s offers has made the experience worth it. Keith had pretended not to hear. Keith turns away so that he doesn’t have to make eye contact with Shiro.

They get various groups of people coming through steadily for the first half an hour. It’s a mix of Keith projecting loud enough to get the attention of the shoppers in the market, and Shiro’s face being visible enough for them to get drawn in by it.

A woman and her two tiny sons approach the stall. She smiles at Shiro, who happily parrots back the offers. Her sons run up to Keith and take turns punching the puffed out lower half of his costume, seeing how far they can sink their tiny little fists in. Keith has nothing better to do, so while Shiro convinces the woman that buying six heads of cabbage is an excellent idea, he shows the two kids how to punch harder, making fake sounds of pain every time they try and hit him.

Another elderly lady tries to bargain with Shiro, and Keith thinks that Shiro’s going to nobly give in. But while he hollers out at a group of kids passing by about the health benefits of cabbage, he eavesdrops onto Shiro somehow charming her into buying more. Keith wonders when Shiro’s ever going to slip up and expose his silver tongue to everyone else. By the way the lady’s beaming when she leaves the stall, Keith knows it’s not going to be any time soon.

At one point, a group of girls and boys who _clearly_ should be doing something better with their time, stop by the stall. Keith panics when he sees two of them wearing senior student robes from the Academy, thinking that they’ll recognize him, but they have no eyes for the cabbage man. Instead, they all titter around the stall, telling Shiro how they didn’t expect to see their favourite teacher selling cabbage. He gives a warm smile and tells them it’s all for charity, and it’s all so that he can see his best friend dress up like a cabbage. Keith stands facing away, hands on his hips so that the laughing teens don’t see his slowly reddening face.

After running through slogans for a few more minutes, he realizes that they’re still there.

They’re not the first ones to make eyes at Shiro all day, not even the first ones within the hour. But there’s something about the way one of them props their head on their hands and flutters their eyelashes at Shiro that makes Keith feel just a little agitated. Shiro, after all, has work to do, and he’s a _teacher_ at their academy. Keith turns around clears his throat, and catches the proper attention of the group again.

The group starts laughing at Keith, and laughing at him _hard_. Keith narrows his eyes at them, trying to glare, but the effect is ruined by the green, bulbous costume he’s wearing.

“Hey,” He tries to admonish. “It’s not nice to laugh at people for their jobs.”

“I recognize you,” One of the kids chirp. “You’re part of the guard now, right?”

“Does the job not pay enough?” The other one chimes in, and he sounds so much like Lance that Keith immediately starts to feel a temple throb. “Is _this_ what happens to star students?”

Keith’s about to snap back with something cutting, because he’s not about to be made a fool by a group of teenagers, but Shiro cuts in before he can say anything.

“It is,” Shiro’s voice sounds sweet, and Keith picks up the immediate glint in it. “So imagine what’s going to happen to you.”

The kids start to stutter and turn red and Shiro keeps smiling at them. It looks expectant, the type of smile that ends fights in the yard before they start, and the moment they pick up on that is nearly tangible.They turn heel and scram as fast as they can, and Shiro calls out to them, reminding them to finish their homework. Keith tries not to smile too much, tries not to let it show how Shiro’s small defense of him made his heart sing, but Shiro winks at him and it’s so, _so_ hard to resist.

 

* * *

 

Keith’s final task for the day is the one that’s paying him the most. It’s also the most abhorrent one.

“You don’t have to be here,” Keith says for the fifth time, voice muffled through the mask he’s wearing over the lower half of his face.

“I’m supposed to spend the day with you,” Shiro replies eyes watering slightly because the fabric tied around their faces _really_ aren’t enough to disguise the smell. Keith concentrates harder, and the fire flowing out through his fingers burns brighter as it incinerates the trash. It’s tempting to send a large fireball blazing through the pile, but there’s a really high chance that he’d accidentally set the rest of the area on fire.

They’re in a courtyard, facing a sizeable amount of garbage. A political summit had been hosted recently in the city, and they’ve finally cleaned out all of the quarters used to host various royal and political families and parties. Someone has decided that the best and easiest way to get rid of all this garbage is to burn it into ashes, out in the open air. Keith thinks that it’s maybe not the smartest idea, given the sheer amount of waste and the amount of thick rotten  smoke being sent up into the air, but he’s not complaining.

Technically, this is a job for three firebenders. The money Keith’s getting is enough for three firebenders. He’s confident enough in his abilities to finish, but it doesn’t stop it from sucking any less. They’ve already been here for the good part of an hour, and he’s almost half of the way through.

He had tried to convince Shiro to go home, to maybe meet up with him after he finished his job. It’s the evening already, this is not a fun activity, and he’s not sure if he’s eaten up more of Shiro’s time than was allotted to him.They had explicit orders to not crack the dirt in the courtyard and bury the trash, and Keith can’t hold a steady conversation, so there isn’t much for Shiro to do except watch. Shiro has been adamant that he stays by Keith’s side to make sure he doesn’t overwork himself. He’s also there to make sure that Keith doesn’t hurtle one huge fireball towards the towering pile and accidentally burn the entire quarters.

The heat from the fire in front of them licks up Keith’s arms. He’s sweating like crazy, the previous dirt from the day sliding down his face. It’s disgusting, and the smell of burning trash seems to permeate down to his bone. Keith feels all the regret at having taken up this job, but it’ll officially earn him back all the money he had spent, and then some.

“Want water?” Shiro asks from beside him, and Keith does. He really does. The amount of energy this needs is draining him, and he’s already tired from having been in a hot and stuffy costume. His throat is dry and the rim of the mask feels uncomfortable pressed against his skin.

But Keith shakes his head because he needs to finish off all his work. He needs to get it done and if he takes a break now, he’s not going to get it done in the amount of time he had promised. He feels a hand press against the small of his back, before dragging up to his shoulder and squeezing. Keith sends out another burst of flame, watches it curl around a stack of broken wooden boxes, before turning to Shiro.

“I didn’t mean it as a question,” Shiro says, gentle but commanding in a way that draws Keith closer. “Drink.”

Shiro’s got the small canteen that he carries around regularly, and he pops the lid with one hand and pulls down Keith’s mask with another. Keith’s about to reach for it, but Shiro raises it to his lips for him and tips it just enough so that water doesn’t rush out and choke Keith. He tries to not act too desperate, but as soon as the lukewarm liquid hits Keith’s tongue, he leans into get as much as possible. He holds his breath so the taste of the water doesn’t go rancid with the smell of the air, only taking short sharp breaths when he needs to. It’s still disgusting, but he’s too thirsty to care. He looks out the corner of his vision, eyes a section of the trash, and raises a hand to send fire barrelling towards the pile. It hits with precision, sending more smoke into the air, and Keith snaps his mask back into place.

“This is impressive,” Shiro says, voice genuine. “Your skills have always impressed me.”

Keith tries not to preen at the compliment. Somehow, it eases the burden of the job by more than a fraction, and he attacks the task with new energy.

It takes him an hour more to finish burning through all the garbage, and though he’s not felt this exhausted in a while, Keith looks with some sort of pride at the piles of ash sitting in front of him. He’s a little woozy from the heat and the energy he’s spent, and does nothing to stop Shiro when he plants his foot down and splits the ground, allowing the ash to fall through. He seals it up, knitting the earth so that it looks like nothing ever happened, and Keith voices his appreciation and amazement through a series of vague noises. Shiro looks at him with great concern, but Keith waves him off. He’ll be fine. His vision is blurring a little around the edges, but he’ll be fine.

“I don’t think you are,” Shiro says, voice heavy with worry, and _oh_ , Keith didn’t know he said that out loud. “Yeah, you did.”

Shiro herds him out of the courtyard, and Keith blabbers something about needing to collect his money. A few passerbys wrinkle their nose as Shiro navigates them out of the building. There’s a bench under a tree right outside, and Shiro plants Keith there with his canteen.

“Drink,” He says, and Keith nods along. “I’ll get your money.”

Keith bites the neck of the canteen and tilts his head back, glugging down the remainder of the water. The shade is cooling him down, and Keith thinks that he’s on his way back to finding some form of coherency. He know he’s found it when the stench surrounding him suddenly registers. Keith gags a little, immediately wishing he could go back to being out of it and not knowing that he smells like the bottom of a waste barrel.

Shiro only takes a few minutes to return, but they feel excruciatingly long as Keith becomes more and more aware of his current state. Shiro plops down beside him, bringing with him a fresh waft of garbage smell that Keith chokes on, and drops a small bag onto Keith’s lap.

“You didn’t have to do so much,” Shiro says as Keith jingles it. The weight of it feels about right, and he unties it to peer in. “You could have taken the bid back.”

“It went to charity,” Keith says simply, poking around a  few of  coins. “I don’t mind.”

“But you had to work to get it back,” Shiro says, and he’s frowning. “I could have lent you the money if you needed it that bad.”

“That’d defeat the purpose,” Keith shakes his head. He’s also got too much pride to ask for money for something like that. Even though Keith doesn’t say that part out loud, Shiro picks it up and drops the topic.

“Do you want to pick something to do off the list?” He asks instead, and Keith squints.

“The list?” He asks, and Shiro opens his mouth before clamping it shut. “What list?”

“The one that Coran gave you when you paid,” Shiro says slowly. “Academy sponsored activities for us to do.”

Keith’s face must speak volumes as to how clueless he is, and Shiro looks like he’s just realized something.  

“Yeah well,” Shiro scratches the back of his head and Keith tries his best not to look wide-eyed. “The Academy made arrangements with a bunch of food shops and training rooms and  art houses and things like that, and the winner could pick what they wanted to do for free. Coran was supposed to give a list to you so that you could pick something for us to do.”

Keith vaguely remembers Coran waving a sheet of paper in Keith’s face, and Keith taking it without reading it, folding it into his pocket, and never looking at it again. He stares blankly at Shiro. Shiro blinks. Silence stretches out over them like a thick blanket.

“It wasn’t my job to entertain you?” Keith says finally and Shiro slowly shakes his head. Keith wishes he had come earlier to the auction, when Coran had done his spiel about what the event entailed. “Oh.”

“I should have told you earlier,” Shiro says, sounding apologetic. “But you seemed to have a busy day lined up already, and I thought you’d have already looked at it.”

“Well…” Keith trails off, and looks at his hands. They’re scuffed and dirty and worn out from the day, and he knows he needed the money. He _knows_ that.

But he’s also sort of speechless, sort of annoyed with himself, because he _could_ have had a nice day with his best friend. They could have done something fun for free, and he could have scheduled his odd jobs for another day. They could have, perhaps, _maybe_ gone on something that was enough like a date to keep Keith warm for months. Keith doesn’t know how to voice any of this out loud.

“Hey,” Shiro says lightly, and Keith looks up. Shiro’s got a look of pity on his face, but also some encouragement. “There’s still time in the day left. We can do something fun.”

“Yeah?” Keith doesn’t know what exactly Shiro thinks they can do since they’re worn out, smelling like trash, and the sun is setting. But Shiro gives him a small smile, and Keith decides to go along with it.

 

* * *

 

Before they go anywhere, Shiro insists they wash and change into fresh clothes. It’s fair enough, given that Keith feels like he’s been marinated in the smell of burning garbage. Shiro tells Keith he's going to meet him at his home in two hours, which is enough for Keith to make his way down to the bathhouse and soak out the days efforts from his body.

By the time Shiro comes back, Keith's bone tired but significantly cleaner. Shiro hasn't told him where they're going, so Keith's settled for wearing something clean and something that's a deeper red than normal. Keith's also tried to brush his hair down into something neater and practiced smiling in the small pocket mirror he keeps in his bedside.

Hunk has told him before that his smile is a mix of terrifying and awkward when it's in purpose, and Keith is inclined to agree so he opts for his neutral expression when Shiro comes knocking on his door. He’s in the black robes with the gold trim that he wears when he has to impress visiting nobles to the Academy, and keith suddenly feels underdressed and overwhelmed.

“Is this part of the package too?“ Keith asks in order to distract himself, gesturing towards the small bundle of flowers Shiro is holding in front of him. Shiro looks down at them for a second, like he’s just remembered that they were there, before nodding sheepishly.

“It’s on the list,” He says. “Coran gave them to us. Apparently to make a good impression on whoever won us.”

Keith takes the flowers and puts them neatly on top of his bed so that he remembers to find a glass and some water for them later.  Keith's going to look at them later tonight and probably pluck each petal as he contemplates whether or not Shiro reciprocates his feelings for the nth time.

“Should I change?” Keith asks, and Shiro frowns.

“You look good,” He says, and Keith locks the compliment in his head. “Why would you change?”

“Ah,” Keith doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he opts to ask where they’re heading instead.

The answer is a small festival happening on the edge of the lower city; it's not on the list Shiro has but he tells Keith that he might enjoy this a little more than a candlelit dinner on a rickety boat. An evening with just the two of them as they gently float across the lake sounds extremely appealing to Keith in ways he’s not ready to expose yet, so he nods along like that’s something he wouldn’t vehemently agree to.

While they walk there, Shiro gently ribs Keith about his impulsive spending habits. There’s no real heat behind any of it, but Keith still pretends to get ruffled.

“I just wanted to spend the day with you,” Keith huffs and crosses his arms in mock indignance, and Shiro laughs and thumps his back gently.

“All you have to do is ask,” Shiro says. “I’ll always spend time with you.”

It makes Keith’s heart jump a little, and he has to bite down on telling Shiro how much that means to him. It doesn’t matter anyways, because Keith’s wasted what could potentially have been a day of Great Wooing on dragging Shiro around on odd jobs, all because he was too nervous around his crush and too impetuous with his spending. There’s some half-baked idea in the back of Keith’s brain that’s starting to form, telling him that if he wants to make the day worth it, he’s got to find the moment and grab it with both hands. Keith ignores it.

They reach the festival when it’s winding down, but there’s still a good amount of people milling about. The smell of sticky sweet cakes and grilled food floats through the air, and deep yellow lanterns hang down along the streets. It’s one of the many food festivals held throughout the city; this one’s focused on tea flavoured rice cakes, and there are rows and rows of colourful stalls lining he stone walkway.

Shiro insists that he pays for the green tea cakes he catches Keith eyeing. When Keith tries to nudge him out of the way to pay anyways, Shiro uses his size to his advantage and muscles Keith off until Keith’s face is planted against a broad back and Shiro’s giving a sunny smile to the bemused shopkeeper. Keith protests loudly, but is more or less ignored until Shiro turns around and tells him to open his mouth.

“Wha- _mmf_ ,” Keith squawks around the rice cake Shiro shoves in, and flails between trying to chew it and trying to grab Shiro by the ear.

“I don’t think there’s much left to do,” Shiro looks around as Keith finally swallows down the bright green cake. “We should’ve come earlier.”

“Sorry,” Keith starts but Shiro shakes his head before he can continue.

“It’s my fault,” He says, and throws a casual arm around Keith’s shoulder as he starts to walk them down the street.  He’s warm and solid beside Keith, and Keith does his best not to lean into it. Too much. “Should’ve told you earlier.”

“You just wanted to watch me suffer,” Keith grumbles half-heartedly, and Shiro rumbles beside him.

“Maybe,” He teases, shaking Keith slightly. It might be a figment of Keith’s imagination, but Shiro holds him a little closer after that. Shiro starts another spiel about how this might teach Keith to spend his money better, but Keith’s too focused on how well he’s tucked against the crook of Shiro’s arm.

The night air is crisp, and the moon hangs large and full in the sky. Keith tries not to stare at Shiro too much when he talks, but it’s hard when his sharp jaw is illuminated by the warm light lining the street. Shiro turns to look at Keith, eyes glittering as he asks Keith if he thinks they can still get some wine, and Keith feels his heart threaten to stop at his expression.

Keith wants a drink desperately so that he can ease his nerves, but he suggests they skip going in to any of the dustry taverns that are still open. The last time he was in one, him and Hunk had drank themselves into a rowdy state. When Lance had been sent to retrieve them, he had decided to join in on the festivities. Keith had ended up passing out and subsequently falling asleep on the floor of the tavern. He remembers vaguely being shaken awake by Shiro, and the three of them being herded out by big arms and stern but amused words. He couldn’t meet Shiro’s eyes for a week after, and he thinks it’s part of the reason Shiro’s so insistent that they go drinking. Keith manages to hold his own, and Shiro finally gives in and they look for something else to do.

Most of the activities and shops are winding down as people pack up, but the small square at the intersection of streets is still hosting a group of musicians. They’re playing with great gusto as drunk revellers dance in circles around them, laughing loudly and swinging each other around. Keith understands what Shiro wants to do as soon as Shiro lets go of him.

“No,” He says, but Shiro already has him by the wrist, tugging him towards the crowd. “Shiro, _no_.”

“Yes,” Shiro replies, and pinches his fingers so that Keith can’t escape. “It’ll be fun, come on.”

“You can’t dance,” Keith tries to point out. “ _I_ can’t dance. We’re going to look terrible.”

It falls on deaf ears, and Shiro twirls Keith around. Keith tries to plant his feet, but Shiro grabs his other wrist and tries to flail him around, laughing as Keith squirms. Grudgingly, Keith shuffles a little on his feet, and Shiro takes it as encouragement to keep trying to dance. He’s off-time with the music and bumps into people and Keith’s really, _really_ glad they didn’t go out to drink.

“This isn’t dancing!” Keith yells over the music, and Shiro shrugs before doing some weird hand-waving motion. He hasn’t dissolved into using hand-to-hand combat techniques as dance moves yet, and Keith’s thankful for that. He crosses his arms over his chest and tries to glare at Shiro and not let on that he’s actually having fun.

He’s about to say something, when a hand peeps up from behind Shiro and taps him on the shoulder. Shiro turns around to speak to someone, and he’s big enough to block Keith’s view of them. He’s about to stand on his toes to get a look, when he sees Shiro nod towards whoever’s got his attention. He looks back over his shoulder at Keith, and Keith catches a glimpse of one of his former classmates from the Academy. He doesn’t remember their name, just that they spoke with ten words when they could use three. That’s probably why he gets annoyed when Shiro tells him he’s going to be right back.

“Where are you going?” Keith asks, trying not to sound like he’s demanding an answer.

“To dance!” Shiro throws back cheerily before disappearing into the crowd.

Keith stands in stunned silence for a good half minute as the crowd bumps around him and the musicians keep energetically playing. His brain slows to a halt as it tries to process the fact that Shiro just ditched him on _his_ day with him. This makes an undoubtedly irrational feeling bubble up in Keith that he can’t quite explain.

He elbows his way through the throngs of people, catching a glimpse of Shiro’s tuft of white hair and honing in on it. The music swells, just as he manages to clear through enough bodies, arriving in time to see Shiro move Keith’s old classmate into an exaggerated dip. Seeing Shiro grin good-naturedly at them, followed by seeing them laugh and go a little red, allows Keith to finally name the sharp emotion that spikes through him.

It’s jealousy, and Keith’s really tempted to act on it. The song’s not done yet though, and he doesn’t want to come off looking like the hot-head he knows he’s not, especially if he’s unsure if it’s warranted or not. He reasons that he _did_ pay for this day, but reminding himself of that does not do him any favours.  

So instead, he stews in the feeling as he watches the classmate respond to Shiro much more enthusiastically than Keith had. Shiro seems to be having the time of his life, and Keith mildly regrets having acted like a downer for too long. He knows he looks odd, standing and watching, but Shiro doesn’t seem to notice him. Not till the song’s almost done and starts segueing into the next one anyways.

As soon as the musical notes start to weave themselves into something new, Keith intervenes in the politest way he can.

“Hey,” He says in what he hopes doesn’t sound as brisk as he feels. “My turn.”

He sticks an arm between the two of them, and it takes less than a ten-second stare down to send the other person scrambling. Keith tells himself that it’s not his fault that he’s got a naturally intense face. It’s not till he turns back to Shiro that he realizes what position he’s just placed himself in. He also realizes he hasn’t planned far enough, and doesn’t know what to do now.

“Sorry,” Keith says, cringing internally at how pathetic his voice has suddenly become. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You said you didn’t want to dance with me,” Shiro says, raising his eyebrows, and Keith can feel his ears heat up.

“Maybe I changed my mind,” He says, immediately regretting how petulant his voice comes out. But Shiro’s a good sport and wraps his arms around Keith’s waist. Keith doesn’t know what to do with his own hands, so he rests them lightly on Shiro’s shoulders.

They sway around a bit, awkwardly. Keith’s trying to look like he’s not absolutely mortified, and Shiro’s expression is unreadable. It’s not till Shiro trips a little that Keith realizes he’s being awkward on purpose, and he thumps a fist against Shiro’s chest as Shiro bursts out into laughter.

“Were you jealous?” Shiro asks, a little too knowingly and Keith scrunches his face.

“Why should I be?” Keith retorts. “I was just getting bored.”

“Were you?” Shiro raises an eyebrow, and Keith has to break eye contact and look away.

“Yeah,” Keith says. “And I still am. This dance is boring.”

“Then make it more interesting,” Shiro says simply.

“Fine,” Keith replies, and crouches down a little to encircle his hands around Shiro’s thighs. Shiro beams down as Keith heaves him up, staggering a little as he adjusts for the weight. He bumps shoulders with a couple of people, but it doesn’t register because his face finally cracks and he’s too busy grinning up at Shiro. Shiro’s heavy, but Keith plants enough weight in his heels to support him as he spins them around to the sound of the music.

“This is much better,” Keith informs Shiro, squeezing a little harder as he rotates again.

Keith gets a little dizzy, so he drops Shiro down, and tilts him into a dramatic dip just because he can. Shiro, ever the good sport, clasps one hand to his chest and flutters his eyelashes. Before he starts to blush, Keith brings them both back up. Shiro envelops him in a hug when he’s vertical again, and despite his best efforts at controlling himself, Keith clings on to him.

Shiro’s laughing, and he flushes as he presses his forehead against Keith’s. One hand wraps moves down to wrap around Keith’s waist and the other lands on Keith’s shoulder. Keith goes cross-eyed, looking at Shiro’s face, trying to find a place to focus his gaze. Shiro’s got his eyes closed as he smiles wide, and Keith can’t help but grin in return, despite the fact that his stomach is doing somersaults. He can’t think of anything in the moment except for the way Shiro looks, the music singing sweetly around them, the way lanterns cast a golden glow across Shiro’s face.

Shiro looks young and content, and Keith’s struck by the way his heart clenches at the sight of him. Shiro’s handsome, but kindness circles him like a halo that Keith can’t stop looking at. Suddenly, Keith feels overwhelmed, both by the moment and the man in his arms.

“Shiro,” The word stumbles out before Keith can catch it, and Shiro opens his eyes. They’re only at half-mast, but they look expectantly at Keith, and Shiro makes no move to create some distance between the two of them. Keith doesn’t bother moving his hands from where they’re clinging onto Shiro’s back, and Shiro hasn’t complained yet.

They stay like that for a moment, before Keith decides that now’s a good time as any to confess to Shiro. He mentally steels himself just incase, and inhales to tell Shiro what’s been burning away in him. But he barely makes a sound when he suddenly finds his mouth occupied by Shiro. The kiss is chaste, just a brief press of the lips, and before Keith has time to process it, Shiro draws back and looks at Keith as wide-eyed. There’s silence between them, and the sounds of the music starts to get drowned out by Keith registering that Shiro just _kissed_ him.

“Is that a part of the day you owe me?” Keith asks finally, and Shiro pinches his eyebrows before getting a worried look. He regrets the words and the misplaced joke almost immediately after they leave his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro apologizes, and it’s Keith’s turn to frown. “I shouldn’t have, I overstepped-”

Shiro starts trying to move back, and on reflex Keith’s grip tightens and yanks Shiro in.

“It’s fine,” Keith says, and everything else after that gets caught in his throat. He doesn’t have to say anything beyond that though, because Shiro cups Keith’s face and looks at him with a great amount of determination.

“Can I?” Shiro asks gently.

Keith nods, and he finds himself pressed in a line against Shiro’s torso as Shiro encompasses him and kisses him again. This time, Keith reciprocates, drifting a hand to the middle of Shiro’s back so he can clutch onto him in between his shoulder blades. Keith wonders if this is real, wonders if he’s going to wake up on the floor of a dusty tavern again while Shiro laughs, cheers him, and asks him what he was dreaming about. Keith’s not quite sure how he’s going to absorb the fact that Shiro actually likes him back, so Keith puts in as much effort as he can to make sure. When the kiss deepens, he can taste the lingering sweetness of the tea cakes, and does his best to kiss Shiro until all he can taste is Keith.

Keith feels greedy, and he thinks Shiro’s feeling something similar, because they can’t seem to detach from each other. Shiro moves his lips against Keith, soft yet insistent, and Keith wonders if Shiro’s wanted to do this for as long as he has. His free hand shakes slightly as it lets go of the cloth it was twisting, and drifts to the nape of Shiro’s neck, scraping through the short fuzz.

When they finally break apart, they're both a little out of breath, and they both have matching ridiculous smiles.

“Definitely worth the money,” Keith says and Shiro gives a short laugh.

“I’ve wanted to do this for some time,” He says, and pecks Keith quickly before Keith can say anything in return. Keith wants to ask how long, wants to know if Shiro’s been holding a bright flame for Keith for as long and as much as Keith has been holding it for Shiro.

But the way that Shiro wraps him up in his arms and kisses him again, his smile relaxing as he deepens it, Keith thinks he gets his answer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to the ATLA wiki for filling in the huge gaping holes in my knowledge OTL
> 
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://phaltu.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/tagteamme)!!


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